Taken, Broken, Stolen
by JesusisAlive2033
Summary: It was a frozen winter evening when everything he had ever known would be lost. He would be taken from everything he had held dear. He would be broken almost beyond repair. The last thing he cared about? That would be stolen from him.


I don't own it. Enjoy.

He brought up his hands to his head and cried out.

Everything was lost.

His allies were gone, his soldiers had perished. He was alone, all that he had left was his life and a small silver dagger.

His enemy looked at him in pity. There lay his greatest foe in a frozen scene of despair. The snow that fell made it feel as if the moment was laid out perfectly for him. Everything about it made it seem so fragile that he dare not make a first move. He watched as his final obstacle to power was slowly brought to insanity as the loss of everything his crusade was about finally came crashing down upon him.

The boy thrashed in the eternal winter, sobbing and laying waste to himself as his tears froze to his face. His black hair was frozen to his pale face. His cobalt blue eyes were a harsh red. He looked to the moon in a cry of desperation.

Soon, his enemy slowly walked over, and placed his frigid hand on the boy's soaked black cloak. The boy, though far from reality, sensed that it was him, and he quickly jerked away. He rolled around to face his elder with the glare of a wild animal.

The elder tsked, and grabbed the boy by the arm. The younger thrashed and tried to pull away through the sobs, but his foe would not have it. He simply pulled the boy away with his superior strength over to a body lying in the snow.

He grabbed the boy's hair, and forced his head to see the destruction caused by their fights. The boy wailed even more, and dropped onto his knees by the unknown soldier. The elder just watched as the younger cried out, and crystalline tears dropped from his eyes like floods. Veins of ice made its way onto his face as the wind became harsher and the cold became colder.

After what seemed like an eternity, the noise suddenly stopped. The elder, noticeing this change in events, crept slowly over to his foe. He cautiously walked forward as the snow crunched beneath his steps, and the wind bellowed. He saw that the boy had stopped thrashing and wailing. He now sat their, blank faced.

The elder smiled at his now broken enemy. He laid his hand upon his shoulder, and was pleased to see the boy didn't fight back. He led the boy to his feet, and started to walk off into the blizzard.

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His guards were at the entrance of the temple. They quickly grabbed the freezing pair and led them inside. They were led to separate rooms. The elder changed into something more so regal than the combat gear he had been wearing earlier. The elegant silk with which his robes were adorned and the grand pendant that he wore gave him an aura of power.

He had ordered his guards to change the garments of his broken hero. They had picked decently, allowing the boy to change into a dark blue robe that was littered with small bats on its hem. The boy was cleaned and was carried into his enemy's study. The guards set him down by the roaring fire as the elder inspected him.

The boy was cleaned of the ice in his hair, and the tears that had once littered his face were now all but wiped away. His new garments signaled a cleanliness which was not found in the rags that he wore before. His eyes were no longer a deep red, but a bright white and lovely cobalt. The only thing that had remained from before was the blank look on his face and the silver, blood ridden knife.

The elder looked at the boy carefully, and he saw the dagger with distaste. He grabbed it from the boy's hand. He carried it away, and when his young foe realized that he no longer held the dagger, he jumped up and quickly searched for the last thing he had of his previous battles.

Both of them froze for a mere moment. One in caution, lest the last item that he held dear be stolen from him. The other in thought, as if wondering what such a trinket held that much of an interest for a boy he was sure had been so far gone.

They were in silence, and soon enough, it was broken. The man held out his hand, dangeling the dagger in front of the boy, almost teasingly. The boy walked forward hesitantly, only the drive for his one safe object keeping him going. Once he was close enough, he slowly pulled his hand up toward the dagger. His enemy continued to smirk as the boy cautiously touched the tip of the silver.

He looked at the silver, mirror like knife, and was caught in its majesty. He almost grasped it, when the elder pulled it away from him, and chucked it into the fire, merely to watch it burn.

The boy stared at his foe in horror, and nearly jumped into the flames to grab his beloved item back. He would've, too, if the other man hadn't grabbed him and made him watch as it melted.

The boy was soon back into his catatonic state when the dagger finally melted. The elder carried the boy to a different room. He set the boy on what the child would learn to be his bed. The boy sat in silence, the elder predicting that he did not completely understand what had happend here today. He sat there for a small while, and then decided to leave. However, as he left, he dropped a small package onto the boy's table. He then posted two guards in the room before retiring to his own chambers.

The boy, after several hours of simply staying on the bed, soon reached for the small box that was left. He felt the small box, and examined it closely. Then, he gently pulled off the ribbon. He cautiously opened the box, and when he saw what was inside, he threw the box as far as he could in the small room. He started to hyperventilate and shake. It wasn't soon until he passed out from the absolute exhaustion he had found that day.

Soon, one of the guards noticed the boy was asleep, and tried to find if the boy had a fever or some other illness after all he had been through. He almost didn't notice the ornately carved sabre inside of a small box. He set it on the table next to the young boy's bed. He put it back into its box. He soon looked after the boy.

His temperature was about a hundred even. He decided to go tell his master about the boy's illness. He jumped out of the room, leaving the boy and his gift alone for the rest of the night.

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The elder walked into his new charge's chambers the next morning, only to see that he had turned several shades whiter than his normal coloring, and that the fever he contracted from last night's events had spiked. He ordered that his best medicines be brought to the boy immediately.

He sat there with the boy for what seemed like an eternity. He tended to the boys wounds, cleaning each scrape and gash carefully before bandaging them. He switched out cold cloths to bring down the fever, and watched over him for any signs of consciousness.

It was when the fever broke the next day that the boy had awoken. Frightened and dangerous, the teen went straight for his enemy's throat, demanding answers and a way out. Unfortunately, the elder was in much better shape than his prisoner at the moment, so as soon as the boy lunged, the elder sidestepped. He suddenly fell to the ground, and finally realized the predicament he was in. The younger was quickly drained of his energy, and for a moment, was on the cold ground in pain.

His elder chuckled, and picked the boy up bridle style and dropped him in the bed. The young man tried to protest, but he was simply to weak to deny the man anything. He curled up yet again, and his elder smirked at him.

The boy let the blood rush to his cheeks, and he gave a menacing glare with all the energy he had left. His foe, immune to such things, it seemed, just dismissed it, and pulled up a chair to the fire.

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Weeks, maybe months, passed in this fashion. The boy would be bedridden and lost. The man would watch over him, and try to reason with him. The younger would refuse, and it would seem that the man knew what would happen.

It was another cold evening. The teen sat in his confinements, reading a small book that his elder had given him. It was interesting, telling tales of knights and squires and great was intrigued by it, but an eruption of noise made him quickly put it down.

The large blast had been quickly followed by yelling and fighting. Having no form of defense, he quickly picked up the blade given to him so long ago. He kept his guard. It was a long while until everything had become silent again. He let out a breathe, and relaxed for a moment.

This is, until something grabbed him from behind.

Panicked, he quickly drew the dagger and stabbed whatever it was that had gotten its hold upon him. Once he did, the figure quickly drew back, and the boy turned to see what it was that had tried to steal him away.

Tears rolled down his face as he soon realized what he had lacerated.

It was the man he had been stolen from so long ago.

He got up from his bed, though still a bit sickly, and ran over to his beloved guardian. He tried to wake him up, tried to stop the bleeding, but he just couldn't.

He had killed his mentor.

He wailed in despare, and simply clung to the dying figure. The boy heard the fading heartbeat of the man he had been most loyal to. He watched as the light slowly started to leave his eyes. He heard the small, comforting murmurs of the man as he sobbed.

Suddenly, in the midst of everything that had happened, the boy heard the all too familiar footsteps of the elder. He could not work up the effort to yell or do fight the man who had, indirectly, killed the hero.

However, it seemed that the young boy was not the object of the older man's desire. The elder simply moved the boy a bit, and quickly got to work. He pulled out a few syringes, and quickly performed medical treatments as the boy watched out of curiousilty. It was a long process of stabbing and bandaging, but soon enough, he finished.

The boy watched in wonder, but soon enough grabbed his mentor. The other shook his head in disapproval of the child, and quickly picked up the man. The teen tried to fight back, but soon enough was stuck in bed yet again.

It wasn't long before you could hear the wails of him again for the first time in months.

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It was about two months, if he had been keeping track of time correctly, before he had been able to see his mentor again.

The trip had cost him dearly. He had to comply if he really wanted to see him, which had been made quite clear. So, once he was up to full strength, he did. He finished every exercise, worked every case, and did every mission flawlessly. He was ashamed, but none of that mattered now.

His team was dead.

His old life was gone.

His mentor was the only thing he had left, and if he could, he would fight to the ends of the earth to see him again.

...And that is what he did. So, soon enough, the elder granted him full access to the man he had missed so dearly. When he first walked in, he was overjoyed to see his mentor walking about.

"I missed you."

The man realized what had just been spoken, and ran over to the boy. They embraced, and the younger of the pair began to cry.

"I thought I lost you."

The man nodded, extremely happy to see the young boy again.

"I had to fight for you."

He knew. The elder knew what had happened. He would keep his own story to himself, as from what had happened, the boy needed him more at the moment.

"Your all that I have left."

That brought about a cold silence. Both of them had known what had happened. They both were aware of the situation. It was frightening, and not mallable into words. So the man said the only thing that could come to his mind.

"...I know."

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I think it was kind of a cruddy ending, but I guess that's just how it goes. Let me know what you thought, if I should make this a story instead of a one shot, and let me know who you think the characters are.

Make sure to visit my other stories as well, and thanks for reading!


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